


lay us out after death

by Petr1chor



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Pre-Barricade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:47:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28797843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petr1chor/pseuds/Petr1chor
Summary: Before the final battle, Enjolras finds Grantaire and confesses his love for him
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	lay us out after death

**Author's Note:**

> this is a prompt fill I did on tumblr  
> Enjoy!!

Grantaire took a long gulp from the bottle Bossuet had thrust in his hand earlier that night. The wine was a little too sweet and mild for his taste, but he had grown rather fond of the little corner of the Musain he was sitting in and was reluctant to move.

The night was rather warm, and he relished in the coolness of the wall he was propped against. He took another gulp and silently willed away the wave of melancholy that threatened to engulf him. 

Grantaire looked up at the sudden crash that echoed through the café.

Enjolras stood, his hair slipping free from where it was tied at the base of his skull. His cravat was unknotted, his cuffs stained with flecks of blood as he stood over the lone chair still in the Musain, that had fallen over. It was as though the night had sanded away some of his severity, leaving the slope of his brow smooth.

“May I speak with you?” He asked, keeping his voice soft in the echoing room.

“You do not need to ask, Enjolras,” he cocked his head to look up at him, “I am here only to listen.”

Enjolras scoffed, but it came out a little too fond.

He crossed the room to come sit beside Grantaire. The open window was sending a warm breeze, and carrying the sound of chatter from outside.

“Did you just come here to bask in my glorious company, or did you have something to say to me?”

“I did, yes,” his words were halting.

“Well?” Grantaire asked, “Have you finally decided you do not deem me worthy enough a warrior for you cause?”

The jibe fell poorly, as Enjolras’ face crumpled. He looked away for a moment.

“Enjolras?”

“I- I do not wish to argue,” he said, in an unsteady voice, “If you are amenable.”

Grantaire softened, and put down the bottle. “What is plaguing your mind, Enjolras?”

“You baffle me,” there was a faraway look in his eye, “You are…so much. You know so much. You quote classics even when you are deep in your cups. You baffle me. I do not understand you.”

“What is you want to say, Enjolras?”

Enjolras face seemed to contort in pain. “I admire you, Grantaire.”

“Do not mock me now, Enjolras.”

“No,” his voice was soft, and he kept his eyes trained on the opposite wall, “You amaze me. By your many, many talents, by the way you can speak to people with such ease. You garner affection with no effort at all. Most of all, it stuns me how kind you can be. How you show your love with no reservation.”

Enjolras sighed, bowing his head. “You have...well, you have garnered my affections with the same ease.”

Grantaire watched him with wide eyes, “Is this the truth?”

“It is.”

“I did not think,” Grantaire ventured, ”You indulged in that sort of activity.”

Enjolras cleared his throat. “I do not. This is not a matter of lust.”

Enjolras has his head hung low, his hair falling to cover it. Grantaire hesitantly took his hand, squeezing it encouragement to go on.

“I care for you, Grantaire.”

Grantaire pushed his hair behind his ear. “Would a kiss be acceptable?”

Enjolras nodded, and Grantaire pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss. He felt something inexplicable rise in his chest.

Enjolras broke off, making a wounded noise, and threw his head back until it hit the wall with a soft thunk. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but shut it again. When he spoke, it came out as a whisper, like a secret he was never meant to share.

“There was never a place. Never any time for this. Not with everything I had to do. Not when the people still suffered. But I thought of it. I-” Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenched, “I wanted to spend my life with you.”

Grantaire felt his eyes stinging at the weight of the confession. Enjolras, stripped of all the valor he wore as an armor, for the first time in the years Grantaire knew him, looked as painfully young as he truly was.

He stroked his cheekbones, without mentioning the wetness on them, and drew him in for another kiss. Gentle, soft in the way he cradled Enjolras’ face like something precious.

Enjolras looked a little dazed, but it was soon replaced by a distraught sort of panic.

“What is it, my love?” Grantaire kept his voice soft.

“It was selfish of me to confess tonight. I want you to leave. I cannot have you dying here, and perhaps telling you this has made it harder but, please, you must leave.”

“Enjolras,” Grantaire felt breathless with disbelief, “Do you think this is a _hardship_ for me? You are magnificent. You are- you are my one belief. There is nothing I would not do for you. Even on the days I would drink and mock you, you have to know that I would have taken a bullet for you. Do not doubt the devotion I have for you.”

Enjolras exhaled shakily. He ducked his head down and lay it on Grantaire’s shoulder.

“I do not think we are going to win this fight.”

“I know.”

Enjolras sighed, sounding far too weary for someone so young.

“However,” Grantaire continued, “Perhaps the people will hold this as an example. A massacre of youth.” Enjolras flinched. “People with so much potential, mindlessly taken away by regime that does not care for its people. This is only a battle, Enjolras, the war cannot be won by oppressors.”

Enjolras smiled a broken smile, “You have found your belief then?”

Grantaire pressed their fingertips together, “He is hard to ignore.”

Enjolras’ pale cheeks reddened. He turned his eyes up to Grantaire once more, “Is there nothing I can say? Nothing that would make you leave this place?”

Grantaire intertwined their fingers. “We can discuss my banishment when the sun is up.” He allowed Enjolras’ head to fall on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around him.

“Rest now, my love.”

Xxxxx

When Grantaire woke, it was to the sound of gunfire.

He felt a roaring panic set in his chest. He stood, unsteady on his feet. He was unsure where his legs were carrying him, but the managed to keep him upright as he saw his friends, sprawled over debris. They were covered in dirt and blood and were very, very still.

He scanned the barricade for a familiar mop of golden hair. He found none.

He followed the sound of battle. He did not expect Enjolras to be anywhere but the frontline, wherever the enemy may decide to draw it.

Enjolras, when he found him, looked torn asunder. All righteous fury without fear, standing before the National Guard with his chin out in defiance. He met Grantaire’s eye and faltered, his own eyes going wide.

“Take aim,” one of the guards said.

Grantaire did not pause for thought. There was no need for that. “Vive la Repulique!” he said, “I am with them.”

He moved towards Enjolras, without sparing a glance at the men before them. If these were his last moments, he mused, he would rather keep his eyes on what he loved.

“Two at one shot,” he said, meeting Enjolras’ eye with a smile.

Enjolras expression looked split open. No farce, nothing covering what he felt.

“Do you permit it?” Grantaire asked, and Enjolras’ face split in a brilliant smile.

Granantaire was glad that the smile was not ended when darkness came over him.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated <33


End file.
